How to Train Your Dragon: Trials of the Herobrine
by General Texas
Summary: We all know what people make Herobrine out to be: ruthless, deceptive, and outright evil. But what if he were... good for a change? This ultimate story of friendship, self-discovery, and all-around action will give you the opportunity to see things through my eyes... and Herobrine's. On temporary hiatus for plot and writing repairs. Will be back shortly...
1. Messing with Dragon-Fire

I apologize for the uber-long wait, but I have a number of reasons for this:

1.) I had limited time to type ANYTHING, not even an 'apology letter' as some might call it;

2.) I had no clue that I could do this on Microsoft Word Starter (what I'm currently using);

3.) I had no laptop to type on, and people up at the high school keep on taking all the library computers, and;

4.) I am basically taking three, maybe four, college classes in High School.

Yeah... My life is very hectic right now, and it refuses to give in. To add to the torture, Texans generally don't like the average southern Alaska cold (aside from my friend who prefers the cold). In fact, the temperature in my room is the coldest in the whole house, so life sucks even more. And on top of that, as if it wasn't bad enough already, most people in my life are treating me like a ghost. At least it's Thanksgiving, so it's not so bad.

Anyways, I deeply apologize for the wait. But NOW the wait is OVER, folks, and I'll speak with you at the author's note at the end. If you catch any mistakes, either PM me, or shoot me a review (but whatever you do, DO NOT HATE-MAIL ME, or Heaven help me I will get severely angry like I did in my Wreck-it Ralph fanfic when some dumbass told me to "make a f* chapter already", and it didn't settle well).

. .xXx.

How to Train Your Dragon: Trials of the Herobrine

Chapter 1: Messing with Dragon-Fire

Council Hall of the Wither Lords, 80 Nether years ago (N/1)

(Kreath the Warrior, aka Wither Lord Kreath)

"Speak reasonably, Kreath," a voice among the Chamber of Wither Lords spoke with a loud volume of 300 decibels (N/2). "There is no way, not even in the kingdom of the Blazes, which we would ever be able to take on the End; not even the bravest or stupidest of us would ever even think of taking on Anderrus."

"There is a way," the old Wither Lord known as Kreath responded. "But it can only happen if we UNITE under one flag, one rule, one council, one nation. That means that Fernous the Wise and Gantor the Fearless must join us as well—."

"Even if they do join us," a third voice, firm but well-aged, interrupted. "The Armies of the End would still out-number us. There are simply too many Ender Forces out there."

"I said WE, Lord Karne," Lord Kreath countered. "That includes the native Pigmen. They have superior strength and numbers to that of the Ender Armies. All they need is the technology of the ever-so intelligent Blazes, the fearlessness of the defiant Ghasts, and the battle tactics of our cunning nature. They would be nearly unstoppable."

"Have you gone MAD, Lord Kreath," the first voice, Lord Harrenius, burst out, leaning forward in his seat (N/3). "Or have you even been listening to us other Lords? The odds would be heavily stacked against us; the Ender King has more soldiers, more firepower, more everything, than we do. They even have dragons, whereas we—," he gestured around the room, "—do not. As a matter of fact, we have the greatest disadvantage of all disadvantages. We have only limited resources, Lord Kreath; have you put that in your thick ashen skull of yours yet? Because if not, then you'd better do so quickly before you do something regrettable."

Right at that moment, a behemoth red dragon appeared out of nowhere and blasted the roof open. Lord Kreath smiled at this, knowing that he had won this council meeting. Unbeknownst to them, Lord Kreath already had control of the Alpha dragon, a gigantic Netherine mega-dragon known as the Mega-Warstorm.

Silence filled the Council Hall, the only sound being the flapping of the beast's wings and the boiling lava seas. All the better in Kreath's eyes—this meant that they were frightened out of their wits. Even the witty Lord Cemadius was quieter than Death itself.

"There, there, my good Lords," Kreath taunted. "He won't bite, I swear. He may be hungry, but that silly old dragon wouldn't hurt a fly unless I commanded it to. Of course, I can't promise that I won't give the command, so you may walk out of this hellhole on one condition." More silence passed before a Lord spoke up.

"What condition are you speaking of, Lord Kreath," a young Wither noble asked, obviously afraid of the beast flying overhead.

"Funny you should ask, young Ardis," Kreath spoke. "I would at least like for you to provide resources in the upcoming war against the End; that I can let you walk away with. But the TOTAL condition, my fellow Lords, is for you to kneel to me, to hand over your lands, your subjects, everything but your families and personal possessions. If you wish to become a general or an admiral in my army, I will allow it, but you must first decline your Lordship."

An elderly Wither Lord arose and spoke. Wither Lord Sapienus the Wise. The dragon began to growl, but Lord Kreath raised his left hand and calmed the dragon.

"Why would we give up our titles for which we have fought so hard," he asked. "So then you can become Lord of the Nether? So then you can wage war on the defenseless? What about taking over other peoples; is that your plan?"

"Lord Sapienus, you disappoint me; I expected you to guess correctly." The wise Lord grew insulted at this remark. "But you guessed the entirety of my plan with nearly perfect accuracy. You just missed one small part." Kreath gestured with his thumb and index fingers. "One teensy, weensy, itty bitty part to my battle map, you blind old grandpa Blaze; I don't care who gets in my way, so long as my plan unfolds to completion. I will even go to such an extent as to killing every Last PERSON who so much as poses a plausible threat to my strategy. I don't care how 'sapient' you are, Headache, but you're in my way, and I won't cut a break for you."

This was about the time that the accident happened. Unbeknownst to Kreath, the dragon had a specialized ability to merge with targets when traveling at high velocities; because of this, and due to the fact that things travel at much higher velocities in the Nether than they do on Earth, the accident surprised every survivor of the shockwave that followed.

Kreath commanded not the dragon present, but the Alpha, to crush Sapienus under a lethal high-velocity impact. This was impossibly stupid for two reasons: one, the Alpha could not possibly have survived a high-velocity impact such as this one, and; two, both the Alpha and the Wither Lord Sapienus knew how to merge with a target before impact for maximum damage output. The impact had the force equivalent to that of 20-billion Megatons of Blaze TNT (N/4). Very few Wither Lords present remained conscious and on their feet after the explosion. The only Lords still standing and/or conscious were Kreath the Warrior, Lord Krato the Tracker, Lord Ardis the Democratic, Lord Hardin the Just, and Lord Cemadius the Loyal. They were all shocked at what they saw in the epicenter of the blast.

Standing before them was not Sapienus the Wise, but it was not the Alpha dragon. In fact, it appeared as though the two had merged into one body. The creature before them looked like a dragon incarnate in a Wither's body; hulking shoulders with red dragon scales for skin, a paler red set of dragon scales on the front of the torso, a pair of red-scaled raptor-like legs, and slit pupils on a Glowstone-yellow background for eyes. Neither the Alpha nor the Wither Lord was present; it appeared as though this creature had taken the place of the both of them.

There was complete silence on the part of all the survivors, including the creature before the remaining Lords of the Council. No one spoke for what seemed like two straight hours. Then the silence was broken by none other than Kreath, the one who started all of this in the first place.

"What, in all the Nether, are you supposed to be," Kreath remarked, intending to make it attack or flee, give him a reason to kill the creature. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from screaming at the top of his lungs when it responded in the most unexpected of ways.

"You speak a good question, good Lord Kreath," the beast spoke. "But the real question you should be asking yourself is: who do I CHOOSE to be. And that is easy for me to answer: I choose to be who I choose to be, not who YOU choose for me to be. Now I shall ask you the same question, and expect you to give me the answer I know you will answer: who are YOU supposed to be?"

Kreath shuddered internally, ridding his voice, mind, and body of all fear before responding.

"I am Wither Lord Kreath the Warrior, and—," he began before the creature cut him off.

"That is not the question I ask you, my good friend," it interrupted. "That is who you are today, and I know all of that. I also know the answer you shall soon answer. You answered the wrong question, dear friend. I want you to answer me this: who do you CHOOSE to be, Kreath? Who are you on the inside, Kreath?"

This took Kreath by surprise. He'd never given that idea too very much thought, mostly because he was either dealing with rebellious subjects or defending against poachers and hunters from Earth. He wasn't considered to be a warrior for nothing; whenever the lives of his people were threatened by anything, he would even go to the extent of fighting among his own soldiers to eliminate the threat. Not even the Council could've denied it. In fact, some twelve years ago was enough to prove it.

*Flashback*

The Councilmen were in their seats, ready to proceed with the issues of materials and the lack thereof when, all of a sudden, a battalion of Overworld hunters came along and attempted to kill the Councilmen for their cloaks, their weapons, and anything else of value. None of those present would ever forget what Councilman Kreath did to defend them.

'Kreath,'they called his name. 'What are you doing? Come back.'

He never even heard them. They thought he had a death wish, but he knew exactly what he was doing, and exactly what he had to do. When they noticed that he didn't hear them, they thought he really was suicidal. They thought this even more so when he ordered the guards to stand down.

Kreath shocked even himself when he unlocked one of the secrets of the Wither Lords: Wither-porting, commonly seen when one teleports in a puff of gray smoke and reappears the same way. This was how he defeated the hunters; he Wither-ported left and right, making the hunters shoot each other until there was only one left, a man of 26 or so with red hair and a massive build. He stalked towards the last remaining hunter the way any predator would towards its prey.

'You tried to attack my friends,' Kreath spoke in a way that induced fear in the poor man. 'Why is this?'

The hunter stuttered and stammered, but replied 'I-I was just-t the g-g-guy who carried d—ah, the tents. I d-didn't w-want to c-c-cause you any harm, sir. I'm so, so sorry about all this. I-I'll make it up t-to you, I'll do anything. Just please don't kill me. I have a family to take care of back home.'

'What makes you think I'll kill you, dear friend,' Kreath calmed the man. The hunter took a deep breath and released it. 'Do you think I am not human because I don't look it?' The man nodded. 'Well, go in peace, good man. Go home to your family, to your wife, your children. Take some time off from hunting dangerous beasts such as us. But I will only let you come back if you promise me something.'

The hunter looked Kreath in the eye, a serious posture on his face. 'I'll do anything for you, mister….'

'Kreath,' the Wither Lord chuckled, not one bit of a threatening undertone in his voice. 'Call me Kreath. As for the condition: destroy the portal to this place. Shut it down at the very least, but ensure that no more hunters can come back here. You yourself may come back at any time should you need anything, but ensure that no one else comes back. I do not take well to those who are willing to sacrifice the lives of others for their own survival.'

'You and me both, Kreath,' the man chuckled. 'I'll do it. Anything for the man who was willing to spare my life for such a small price.' He began to turn towards the Nether Portal to the left, but stopped himself, turned back around, and stuck out his hand. 'Where are my manners? My name's Stoick. My friends call me Stoick the Vast, but I'm actually the Chief's son, so… yeah.'

Kreath could hear the heavy Scottish accent in Stoick's voice. Kreath made a mental note about that for future reference.

'Where are you from, Stoick,' Kreath asked as they shook hands. Stoic gave Kreath a look of 'do what'.

'What do you mean,' Stoick returned.

'I mean, what nation do you hail from? Who do you live with? Who are your indigenous peoples?'

'Well, I don't think I've ever been asked that. Well, I live in a small village called Berk, and it's on an island, and we call ourselves Vikings, so… I don't know, really.'

*End Flashback*

Kreath came back from the memories of his past to see nearly everyone still looking at him. He realized that he had yet to respond to the question at hand.

"Know who you are yet," asked the dragon-man.

"Yes, I do," he responded, and the creature leaned forward. "I think." It chuckled.

"Your personality precisely matches a prophecy I had heard of many years ago," it stated. "And this little prophecy should be happening very soon."

It arose from its crouched position on the ground and spread its arms wide. Then it began to speak with a mystic tongue that only the smartest could speak, and wisest could understand, and most fluent could read. All of which Kreath was.

"From the ashes of war and death, two young men shall rise. One shall be born with the power to bring even the most misplaced of dragons to the right place; the other shall be bestowed with an unimaginable power. One shall stop the war with dragons, and unite man and dragon under one flag; the other shall stop the war to consume all worlds, and unite all people under the flags of Trust, Unity, Peace, and Freedom. The two shall be born to unforgiving peoples, and find trust in one another. The first shall be known as the Dragon Master, for he shall unite man and dragon; the other, as the Rescuer, for he will not rest until all peoples are freed and united."

The creature sat down again, and looked up at Kreath. Its eyes showed great sadness in them, but an even greater trust shone through.

"Do you understand just how powerful these children are," it spoke in Netherine Celtic (N/4). "They even had their own separate prophecies in my Library back home. The prophecy said that they would both befriend a prophet's son, but the parents of all three would die at the same time to three separate causes. One would die at the hands of a hunter, one would die at the hands of a mindless beast under the control of a madman, and one would die to a cause which I cannot tell you. You are now more important than ever before."

Kreath was lost in thought at this. 'Me? Important,' he pondered. 'Twenty years ago, I would've just laughed it off like he was crazy. But now that I've heard the prophecy, I know what he means. The "one would die to a cause which I cannot tell you" is me. I am to be the father of one of the three children mentioned. I'm no prophet, so that narrows it down a lot.'

"Should you ever need me, I'll be at my Library—," the dragon-man said before Kreath cut him off.

"Headache," Kreath interrupted. "I need you to do me a favor."

The creature smiled. "Fire away."

"I need you to grant me a human form." Gasps were heard around the room, some from the misery of waking up from a concussion, others from hearing what just came out of his mouth. "And I need you to reopen that portal to Berk. I'm going to need both to do what I want to do."

"And what might that reason be, Kreath?"

"I'm going to pay a visit to my good friend Stoick the Vast."

"Then I'll do so on one condition."

"There's always a condition, isn't there you old… Wither… dragon… creature… guy… you know what I mean."

"Number one; call me Headache, because Sapientus doesn't fit for where we're going. Two, there has always been a condition when making deals with me, there always is at least one, and there always will be at least one. And finally, if you want me to reopen that portal, you're taking me with you. I want to see if there is a slight possibility that I'm not the prophet in the prophecy… wow, that just sounded totally ironic, didn't it?"

"It's fine, Sapps. But what about getting me that human form—."

"Remember that day so many years ago, Kreath," Headache interrupted. "When you discovered that we could Wither-port? I accidentally fell through the Berk portal that the hunters entered through, and I learned that once you step through that portal, you automatically HAVE a human form. It might not work for me because I'm now half-dragon, but Withers born in the Nether can morph into a human as soon as we step through that portal."

"Well then, what are we waiting for," Kreath yelled in excitement. "We haven't got all day to waste. Let's go!"

. .xXx.

(N/1)= 110 years in the Nether is the equivalent of 22 years on Earth. A good way to shift from Nether years is to remember that time in the Nether is five times faster than Earth time.

(N/2)= 300 decibels can easily burst a human eardrum (and probably their entire head), but Withers can not only emit this volume easily, but can also tolerate up to 500 decibels. However, when in any humanoid form, Withers cannot emit more than 130 decibels, and can only tolerate a good 150 decibels. When Withers are in humanoid form and emit 300 decibels like this Wither Lord is doing here, they either had really good practice or are in the Nether.

(N/3)= Withers are the most civilized species of humanoids in the Nether, so they obviously get the comfy chairs and seats. Blazes are the most technologically advanced, but they banned the use of their weapons and such due to a high level of xenophobia (fear of outsiders/foreigners). Otherwise, they are the most civilized species of the Nether. Then there are the Ghasts, whose open nature and friendly attitude towards foreign nations and species make them the friendliest of the Netherine humanoids. Sadly, their lack of advanced technology made them befriend the Netherine dragons (a rare Netherine species), making them the most valuable ally to warring nations and dimensions (i.e. Aether, Twilight, Overworld, Ender, etc.). Then there are the Pigmen, who live up to their name. While they are the most numerous Netherine species, they are the least civilized, least technologically advanced, and most hostile of the Netherine humanoids.

(N/4)= In the Nether, the intense heat and pressure causes explosive forces to skyrocket. Include the fact that Blazes are the most advanced in weapons, architectural, and data recording technology, and the force is already the equivalent of 14.7 million Tsar Bombs, or 25 billion Megatons of TNT. However, the explosion did not involve fire, so the only the shockwave slammed into everyone. Since most Withers can only stand up to 20 billion Megatons of human TNT before losing consciousness, most Wither Lords present passed out upon impact. The only ones who did not lose consciousness were those who could withstand 25 billion or more Megatons of human TNT.

. .oOo.

Well, that was a long one, wasn't it? That was my longest chapter to date: 3,578 words give or take a few. And boy, was it a headache to pull out of my brain. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, shoot me a Review or Private Message if you liked it or disliked it. I'm also looking for OC characters from you guys (explain to me their species, height, weight, appearance, name, wingspan [if applicable], eye color, special abilities [again, if applicable], allegiance, and home dimension/world), so go and do that. Otherwise, I will see you all next chapter.


	2. Buried with Responsibilities

Whew! So glad to be writing again. Did you enjoy reading that last chapter? I know I certainly did. That last chapter took so long to type up, but it was all worth it. Over 3.5 K words last chapter and I enjoyed every last second of it. It was awesome to write.

Okay, enough of my rambling. Here's the next chapter, and it begins in the start of the first movie. Keep in mind that now, the Nether and End are at war to the cause of rogue Wither Lordlings starting a few rumors. Kreath made it up to the Overworld safely and Sapienus gained a bulky human form. Aside from those side notes, here's Chapter 2 for those of you who were willing enough to wait for me to post next.

. .xXx.

How to Train Your Dragon: Trials of the Herobrine

Chapter 2: Buried with Responsibilities

Berk, Present Day

(James Samuel Cordin)

This is Berk. It's about 80 nautical miles north of Hopeless and 20 or so nautical miles west of Freezing to Death. We're mostly alone on this island, with no indigenous species here aside from fish and trees when we got here. It's a wintery hell for nine months of the year and a murderous hailstorm the other three. Since it's so lonely on this small pinprick of land, the other Vikings have learned to come closer to each other. This small village of crazy nut-heads has been around for around 30 generations, and yet every building is new. I've come to blame my explosives testing for at least half of the buildings destroyed, but at least they could be repaired. The real concern is the pests.

You see, most villages have rats or termites to break down their walls ever-so slowly. Oh, no. Not us, of course not us. We have to go with the headache of dealing with even bigger pests that can burn down our village in a handful of nights if we didn't rebuild every day. That's right; I said burn; that's because our village has the biggest pest of them all: dragons.

I'm one of those specialist Vikings, unlike the dragon-killing Vikings. I don't kill dragons; I leave that to the more skilled Vikings. However, I am much more specialized than most other Vikings; I don't fix weapons like Hiccup, even though he's my friend; I don't put out fires like Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout, Fishlegs, and Astrid because I try not to associate myself with water; I don't even fix the homes damaged by dragon attacks. I do the crazy thing and actually put my fire-resistance to good use; they don't call me unburnable for nothing. I go into burning homes and either try to contain the fire or bring those trapped inside back out. I've saved around three hundred lives in doing so.

I cracked the door open cautiously, taking care to look for dragons so as to not cause any more widespread destruction. To the left, I found three Nadderheads eyeing a herd of careless sheep; the massive reptilian predators weren't paying enough attention to notice me poking my head out the door. To the right was a two-headed Zippleback preoccupied with a hammer-wielding Viking, neither of whom was paying me any attention. Straight ahead, there was only a burning building with a few dark humanoid figures within. Wait, WHAT?! A building burning from within, half-a-dozen dark humanoid figures, and a young child's cries coming from within. I balanced the scales, and finally noticed the purple Ender smoke surrounding the dark figures. Oh, dear God no. Those weren't just any dark figures; they were Endermen, the wingmen of the Armies of the End. Anger surged through me as I marched towards the burning building.

The dragons to my right and left finally noticed me, but cowered away from me as my Wither heritage began to ignite with a surge. The Viking noticed as well, but he must've been uneducated because he tried to say hello to me. I gave him a death glare with my now-glowing eyes, and he stopped where he was. I continued walking. Even as the night sky was cloudless, lightning began to strike the ground as heat and smoke began to radiate from my body.

Within fifty feet of the burning structure, the Endermen felt my presence grow stronger. They turned to face me, spears in hand, and began to growl. They had no clue what they had coming. A Crystaline (N/1) (N/2) scythe appeared in my right hand, a small golden dagger in my left (N/2).

When I got to the small home, a wall had already fallen—directly in my way—but I didn't let it stop me. It began to levitate, then I moved it away from the house and threw it at the Nightmare coming to bite my head off, knocking it out and vaulting it over, and I continued walking towards the Enders. The smaller ones growled at me and readied their weapons, but the largest held his hand up and silenced them, then spoke to me.

"What business have you here," he demanded. My eyes began to glow brighter.

"You're attacking an innocent man's home," I responded, refusing to back down. "Haven't you noticed that there is a young child in this home? Or do you even care? Either way, you're getting a heavy whupping for starting this fire." The larger Ender, who I assumed was the ring leader, just laughed at my futile attempt to scare them into leaving.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something," one of the smaller Enders joked, trying to make me forget about the child. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of your voice cracking my ears in half." The underlings laughed heartily, but I and the ring leader remained silent, stoic, and glaring each other down.

"You'd better move out of my way," I stated with a dry but serious tone. "I'd hate to cause more of a mess than there needs to be." They laughed even harder. "This can go one of two ways, you know."

The leader glared at me even more. "Oh, really," he said with a sarcastic tone. "And how might these two, eh… 'ways', as you said, be?"

"You can either get out of my way or let me get this child out of here before the building collapses, or I can beat your hides off, say I told you so, and THEN get this child out of here. Your choice."

Their laughter stopped instantly. The leader's purple eyes twitched in anger at my persistence to keep this kid out of the fire. The underlings blocked my exit so as to prevent escape. They didn't realize what they were messing with.

One of the smaller Enders behind me and to the left went to sever my neck, but I was billions of times faster. I Wither-ported and stabbed his back with my golden dagger. The Enders were caught off guard alright. I paralyzed one to my right by hitting his back with the hilt of my scythe. They were falling left and right before they could react. The only difficult one was the tallest one: the ring leader. He seemed to know my next move before I could throw it. Pretty soon, I felt myself giving out slowly, and he could sense it. He began pushing me harder. I could hear the child's cries getting louder, the burning boards breaking. I made a pretty wild guess that neither I nor the child would make it out alive or unscathed.

As soon as I began to doubt myself, I thought about what would happen if I lost. That gave me a new strength. 'No, I will not fall,' I told myself. 'The odds may be against me, but I will not give in today. Not while this kid still needs me. I will never give in to death's wishes.' This thought gave me such a mighty strength that my eyes glowed brighter than the sun. I felt my pupils burning white, and began pushing him back with my rapid fire attacks. Pretty soon, he began to lose his strength, and I noticed the sloppy footwork of this Ender warrior. I took advantage of this and knocked him off his feet with the side of my scythe. While he was still on the ground, I took yet another advantage and stabbed him in the back of his chest, beginning the end of his life. I bent down and whispered in his ear "I told you I would kill you if you remained in my way," then walked over to where the child was.

The little girl was small and afraid; her leg was trapped under a burning wood beam, and there was even more burning wood and scaffolding dangling over her head. It pained me to see her in such a condition, but I had to get her out of here and reverse the burn (N/3) before I could grieve over the near failure I just had.

I was resistant to fire, so grabbing the burning board and tossing it off of the girl's leg wasn't so hard. The tricky part came down to escaping. The exit plan I had ready wasn't going to work, as some burning scaffolding had fallen down on the exit I had accidentally made during the fight with the Ender gang. There were only two other options: to make another hole and probably make the shelter's destruction even worse, or to Wither-port and risk hurting the girl even more. The shelter was already so damaged I couldn't save the shelter even if I tried.

Just then, in a split second, the roof began to collapse on itself due to a lack of supports and scaffolding. Before the roof hit the ground, I did something I'd never done before: I Wither-ported and covered the girl with my own body in an attempt to keep the fire and sheer weight of the roof from killing the little girl. The roof hit my back with an unexpected force, and everything went black.

. .xXx.

Outside the burning building…

(Third person)

She had been watching the whole thing, the whole event, even though she was supposed to be taking the younger children and injured to one of the safe houses. From what she had just seen, she knew he was a Wither's child. She knew this because otherwise he would've stayed away from the burning building. She knew why he'd done what he did, because she was the daughter of the Ender King (N/4) and could thus sense the presence of other Enders. But those were not her Endermen; she did not, and would never, give the order to burn down the house and kill the child inside.

She saw the boy's anger as he marched towards the burning house. She heard him fighting the Endermen inside to get to the girl. She noticed the way he teleported to get to the defenseless girl. She saw the way he protected the girl and put his own life on the line to keep hers. She tried her hardest to not cry, but it seemed nearly impossible. Her eyes began to well up when she saw a faint, red glow from within the collapsed structure. It seemed as though the glow refused to dim, and grew brighter by the second. Finally, at the brightest of the glow, the ruins on top of the boy and the child flew upwards and hit ten dragons in ten different places. In its place was a glow as bright as lava in the shape of the boy. It began to dim down and returned to the boy's real flesh-color. He stood up from his crouched position, picked up the little girl, who could be no older than seven or eight years old, and took the girl to her.

. .xXx.

(James Samuel Cordin)

"I trust you know what to do with her," I questioned as I put the unconscious little girl in the older one's arms. She nodded. "Good. She needs some serious medical attention and—oh, don't tell me you don't know my abilities. You thought I was done for, didn't you?"

Again she nodded, small tears welling up in her eyes.

"Oh, you've got to be KIDDING ME," I yelled. "You have no idea that I can't be burned by extreme heat? That I can, even if barely, lift two Groncles?"

She shook her head and began to walk towards the safe house.

'Well,' I thought. 'That was awkward. No wonder Snotlout keeps telling me that I'll never get a date. Ugh, that's two more sheep horns that I now owe him.'

I continued walking, searching for more burning houses that needed evacuating, knowing that there probably would be, since there were at least seven dozen dragons out here tonight…

. .xXx.

(N/1)= Crystaline is a synthesized type of crystal in the Nether, being forged out of hardened lava, Glowstone, and raw Nether Quartz. This type of material is strong enough to cut through a ten-foot-thick concrete wall.

(N/2)= Withers—even their half-Wither children—can Wither-port to any place. James, being human as well as Wither, can mutate his abilities to suit his needs, like being able to Wither-port his weapons directly into his hands. This will come into play much more in the future.

(N/3)= Unlike Nether-born Withers and their half-human children, James—being born in the Overworld—was born with a powerful ability to undo burn-related wounds and scars unless the limb he is trying to heal has been naturally amputated.

(N/4)= This girl will play a MASSIVE part in the future.

. .oOo.

This chapter is not quite as long as I wanted it to be, and it only covered half of what I wanted to cover, SO… I'm going to call this the first part of what chapter 2 was supposed to be. Next chapter will be a lot better, I promise. You want to know why? It's going to cover more stuff than this one did.

As always, if you see some grammatical error in here, shoot me a PM. I'm still looking for OC characters to put in, so either review or shoot me a PM. If you liked this story, I would love to know , even if you're a guest. If you don't want to, that's fine, but I swear this story will only get better as it progresses, and you will be tempted to review BIG TIME, so if you ever feel the urge to review, JUST DO IT. It won't hurt anyone's feelings; in fact, it would probably make my day better (depending on the content of the review).

O.K, enough rambling, have a good Thanksgiving, thank your parents for putting you on this Earth, thank your boss for hiring you, thank your educators for teaching you the stuff you needed to get your job, thank your friends for staying buddies with you, thank everyone who impacts your life. Thank you for reading this story, thank you for reviewing if you did, thanks to all of you for being awesome in life (I see everyone as awesome in life), and thank you for giving me the courage to add one more chapter to this great and awesome story. Thank you all, and I will see you all next chapter.


	3. Kill the Danged Dragon, Already

I promised, and I won't disappoint. Here's Chapter 3, and it will NOT disappoint.

OH! I nearly forgot to say something. I should've said this at the first chapter, but I came up with a way for you to understand what I'm writing. If you've noticed, there are little (N/#) symbols with numbers at potentially confusing points in the story. There are more (N/#)s at the end of the story itself which correlates to the ones in the story. This is to help you visualize what I'm seeing in my imagination. For example, the '(N/1)=' at the end of the story is supposed to help explain places with the '(N/1)' in the story. However, you will never find two of the same mark in two different places in the chapter (or two of the same mark correlating to the same definition mark in two different chapters altogether). This is because I expect you to know what I said where and what it means before the next chapter begins, so don't ignore those end parts.

Okay, NOW that's all. Here's Chapter 3, readers.

. .xXx.

How to Train Your Dragon: Trials of the Herobrine

Chapter 3: Kill the Danged Dragon, Already

Berk, Present Time

(James Samuel Cordis)

Apparently, that safe house keeper does her job better than anyone else, because every burning house I came across was already evacuated. I decided to pay Hiccup a visit, but keep a close eye on the safe house at the same time. I walked casually over to Gobber's workshop, only to find no Gobber, no Hiccup, and a few unsharpened weapons. Looking to all angles beforehand, I used my pyrokinetic abilities to heat the edges of the blades and the handles of the rest, reform and/or sharpen the blades and handles, and snap-cool them before anyone noticed.

I telepathically seeked out Hiccup's position to find that he was on a hill that I had already passed. 'Darn it, Hiccup,' I mentally berated him as I prepared to Wither-port to his position. 'Why do you have to try to shoot every other dragon you find?'

POP! I Wither-ported to Hiccup to find him manning a strange bow turret with a trigger mechanism and a weighted net for ammunition. Oh, great. He's actually serious about this. I tried to talk some sense into him, but I never got one word out before he heard a dragon screech and go in for the kill. He looked in its general direction to see a very high heat signature glow in his vision. At the time, it was too far away for me to distinguish as any specific shape, but I knew it was a very powerful dragon; only dragons fly and give off such a high heat signature, and only the mightier dragons give off such a high radiation of internal heat. A blue ball of plasma erupted from the mouth of the dragon and streaked to a nearby structure. Hiccup adjusted his bow turret to face the dragon and pulled the trigger. There was a heavy recoil to the shot, knocking Hiccup down. Never the less, the shot actually opened, caught the dragon, and brought the poor creature down. Surprised as I was to see this, I heard another dragon closing in on our location (N/1).

"I hit it," Hiccup said, totally surprised that he shot the dragon down.

"Eh, Hiccup," I began, but was cut off by Hiccup screaming:

"Yes, I hit it!"

I decided it was too late to try and drag his hide out of there before the Nightmare came along and jump-scared Hiccup, so I teleported to the nearest tall tree—on the highest branch, of course— and summoned my specialized dragon-hunting bow. I nocked an arrow and waited for a dragon to come near. Seconds turned into milliseconds as I sensed a nearly almighty danger near the Great Hall, the chosen safe house for the young, elderly, and injured. I couldn't just leave Hiccup to be eaten by a Nightmare, but I knew he would make it out fine, being the klutz he was. I had bigger concerns to take care of, including fending off the dragon who just so decided to try and prey on the weak.

Transforming into a mighty gust of wind (N/2), I raced to the Great Hall faster than the fastest dragon could fly—around 500 nautical miles per minute—in order to slap this threat out of the sky. SNAP! I turned back into my regular self to find that the threat was high above and closing in fast. I only knew of one kind of dragon that could do that: Netherine Jett dragons, one of the only breeds of Netherine dragons that don't need to flap their wings due to large propulsion organs on their wings and back. I brought my bow up, intending to hit the dragon before it fired its deadly projectile. It readied to fire as well, protruding an organic cannon on its underbelly and readying highly flammable gasses in the cannon. My arm tensed up as I pulled back the bow string to fire the arrow at lethal velocity, feeling the 1500 pounds of strain on my biceps and triceps. The dragon began to ignite its explosive projectile as I did so. It showed no signs of stopping any time soon, so I released my ten-pound arrow at the most vital point of this breed of dragon: its propulsion organ on its underbelly, the one thing that kept it from freefalling mid-flight. The arrow pierced its scaled hide at a lethal velocity, cutting the tissue of the propulsion organ with deadly precision; the impact of the arrow caused the beast to spiral out of control and change its course of flight towards Crow's Peak, the highest mountain in Berk.

"YES," I screamed at the top of my lungs. "I don't think I've ever been that lethal for dragons."

Just then, a Nadderhead landed right behind me, on top of the Great Hall. It eyed me as if it wanted to take my head off and feed my guts to its queen. This was not my best of moments to be as cocky as I was at the moment, because I said the stupidest thing any Viking in his right mind would never say to any dragon under the best command:

"You want a piece of me too, huh? I got just the thing for you right here," I taunted, pulling a two-pound arrow from my hunting quiver. This must've gotten it angry, because it charged me as I was speaking.

"It's called an arrow to the fa—oh my God, you win! Put me down RIGHT now before I teleport us both to the ground right now." Well… it refused to put its new toy down, so its new toy had to get all cranky and teleport like a madman. The massive reptile slammed into the earth as I pulled and anti-gravity stunt out of my back left pocket, leaving it defenseless enough for other Vikings to get to. Sadly, though, it slammed into the one person I don't get along with very well: my father, King of the Nether and supreme commander of the Netherine Armed Forces. The bulky, muscular man swung his arm and knocked the poor beast several feet back. Sadly, the beast still had a tight grip on me, so when my father swatted the Nadder, I was buried under the dragon's weight.

It took a few minutes, but someone finally came and hefted the unconscious beast off of me. I told the Vikings carrying the dragon to hand the sleeping beast to me. They initially refused, but they 'complied' when I took the 500 pound dragon clean out of their hands. I was unwilling to harm a beast that just wanted a play-toy, no matter how violent the manner of taking it. Everyone was surprised when I walked over to the edge of a cliff-face and set the dragon down at my feet, but nearly instantly minded their own business.

"Awaken, young Nadder," I whispered in the Nadder's ear. "Get up and fly away."

It did as I commanded and took off like lightning once it got back on its feet (N/3). I turned away, glad that the dragon even could fly away. I Wither-ported over to Snotlout and the others and relaxed, glad that these early-morning shenanigans were over. I noticed that Hiccup and Stoick were arguing about the damage Hiccup had caused, and made a mental note for future reference.

All of a sudden, a puff of purple smoke popped into existence to my left, scaring me senseless. The smoke dissipated, and in its place was that one girl who thought I was dead when that building crashed on top of me.

'Oh, no,' I thought. 'She's an _Ender_?' I looked back on her reaction to seeing my Witherine abilities in action and noticed something. 'Well, I'll be darned if we don't get into a fight. Why, for the love of everything good in this world, why did our parents have to drag us into their conflict? We hate each other as it is.'

She looked over to me and smiled.

"Hello," she greeted cheerfully. 'Oh, no,' I internally scolded myself. 'This is just great. She's in perfect striking distance to me and she says "hello"? _Fan_-burning-_tas_tic. Now we're all going to die. _She_'s going to die at my hands, _I_'m going to die because of the grief that will overrun me for killing this innocent chic, and everyone _else_ is going to die because of the danged _war_ that's going to ensue between me and her.'

"Uh," I uttered, unsure of what to say. "Erm… Hello…." 'Yep, we're going to die today. We are SOOOOOOOOOO going to die today. All because of a little greeting.' A few awkward minutes passed before she spoke again.

"Well, that was quite the morning," she began. "I mean, I thought you were dead, a dragon nearly shot down the safe house and everyone inside, you nearly got dragged away by an even smaller dragon…." I growled like a predator on the prowl, not wanting this Ender-chic to pick up the bad habit of ranting and/or stating the obvious.

"And it'll only get better," I feigned excitement, totally being sarcastic in a way I didn't think was possible.

"Really," she sighed, giving me a heap of attitude which I was about ready to throw right back at her (N/4).

"NO," was my ever-so-not-glorious response before I walked off. I overheard Astrid talking about how she needed to, and I quote, "talk to me about girls", to which I just snorted and threw a "Good luck with that" over my shoulder loud enough for the other teens to hear. Tuffnut and Snotlout burst out laughing at this.

"THIS ISN'T A JOKE, HICCUP," I heard Stoick shouting at his son. "Why can't you follow the simplest orders?"

"We—I-I-I can't stop myself," was Hiccup's reply. "I see a dragon, and I have to just… kill it. It's who I am, Dad." Intrigued as to what was going on, I inched closer.

"You're… many things, son," Stoick sighed. "But a dragon killer is not one of them." He turned to Gobber, who just so happened to be nearby. "Take him home; make sure he gets there."

"Aye," was the affirmation coming from Gobber, who placed a hand on Hiccup's shoulder and nudged him along.

"You really should've heeded my warning about that Nightmare, Hiccup," I stated as Hiccup passed by me. "Either that, or you're going to need to pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I have never seen someone fail that badly before," Snotlout mentioned as the two passed by, only to get knocked down by Gobber. Of course, the twins didn't really care about what Gobber did; they just snickered and laughed their hearts out at my friend. I stalked over to Snotlout in a manner that would've scared any grown man in his right mind; of course, Snotlout had to be one of those people who wasn't really either of those and didn't really give a dragon snot. I nabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up, making him fear for his life. I got his face as close to mine as I dared until I had him inches away from me.

"_Pay your respects_," I threatened before releasing him. "Today's been crazy enough as is; I don't need your help with being driven insane." I marched off to make for sure that Hiccup wasn't going to do what I knew he would do, but Snotlout had other plans.

"You got an attitude problem or something," he yelled loud enough for everyone else nearby to hear; the twins, being the lousy idiots they were, laughed at the humor they dragged out of that harsh comment.

"Oh, just keep laughing, Snotlout. Just keep on a-laughing. I won't spare you any mercy in dragon training tomorrow."

"Okay," Snotlout returned. "Good luck with that."

. .xXx.

Ten minutes later, I found myself arguing with my father, Stoick, and Gobber about my incident with the Enders and the burning house. Basically in the same situation as Hiccup was ten minutes ago; no one cares, no one listens, and everyone thinks that because I'm young I also have to be stupid on the side.

"I'm serious, Dad," I argued. "I saw Endermen out there. Yes, I know; it doesn't make sense, a gang of Enders setting a house on fire and chatting while still in the building, I know. It doesn't make sense to me, either. All I know is what I saw and what my instincts are telling me, and my instincts are telling me that the Enders have a base somewhere near here—."

"STOP," Stoick ordered. "Just… stop while you're ahead." I shut my mouth, even though I wanted to yell at them, tell them that their instincts were off. "What do you make of this, Heath?"

"It doesn't add up, Stoick," my father muttered. "Not that you're wrong, son; but it just doesn't add up. No Ender, not even a drunken Ender, would dare start a house fire; that's the main advantage that we have against the Ender Titan's armies: we have an association with fire, whereas they burn up in just a couple of seconds. And then there's the fact that they don't burn buildings with humans inside—they feel just as bad as we do when we burn a human. It had to have been started by a dragon… yes, yes that's it. The Endermen were in the house, just minding their business when a dragon set the building on fire."

I groaned, annoyed with their persistence with the idea that they were right and I was just a mindless maniac. Just like they treat Hiccup.

"Okay, now you guys are treating me like you are Hiccup," I complained, not wanting to argue with them any longer. "You didn't believe him when he said he shot down a Night Fury, even though you have a witness of it sitting right in front of you—."

"He's juvenile," Gobber stated with a flat tone.

"No, he knows what he's doing," I reminded them (or, attempted to, at least), starting to feel pestered with their insistence that both Hiccup and I had lost our minds. "It's just that people see him as the runt of the pack."

"He's crazy," Dad argued with yet another flat tone.

"Umm… have you seen any of his inventions lately," I demanded. "This one actually worked and snagged a high-speed, high-heat, highly-dangerous entity clean out of the air, and it legitimately landed just south of Raven's Point. I also snagged a very dangerous dragon before it shot down the Great Hall, and I'm decently certain that you guys will deny that, too—."

"That's different, James," Stoick interrupted. "And Hiccup doesn't do the same things that you do. You; you jump into burning buildings to rescue people. Hiccup works with Gobber because otherwise he'll do something stupid." Gobber leaned over and whispered something in Stoick's ear, and Stoick nodded.

"You also have higher standards to live by," Dad added. "You are the heir to a throne that commands an entire world, albeit a literal Hell." Stoick shot him a look. "Hiccup? Hiccup just has the throne to a single clan in a world with hundreds of clans." Stoick's glare intensified, which caused Dad to shrink in his chair.

"You're also fighting a bigger war," Gobber finished. Both the chieftain and the Wither King shot Gobber a look that would kill a whole pack of Nightmares—well, if looks _could_ kill. Gobber thought over what he'd just said. "Actually, I think both wars are big enough as it is." The glares subsided. My anger, however, was another matter altogether; it was building up faster than a dragon could dive bomb at a lethal velocity, and was getting ready to make an explosion that would make any regular explosion (Netherine or not) look like a harmless bubble popping.

"The whole point here, James," Dad continued. "Is that you have expectations that you need to meet, and you're not meeting them by making up stories to impress girls."

That's it, my anger screamed. I'm done here. One more comment like that, and I'm going to go ballistic.

I knew I was reaching my limits when I could hear my anger. It usually meant that it was about to take me over.

"Dad, come on," I nearly screamed. "That's not my goal here! I'm being serious and you're joking about something that could potentially change the course of the war? YOU'RE the one who's not making any sense here, and it's getting annoying."

"James, you're just over-reacting at this point—."

My anger took over in less than half a second.

"Why do you think I'm lying," I yelled loud enough to shake the ground, my eyes starting to glow. Vikings throughout the village stopped what they were doing to see what was making the ground rattle the way it was.

"Eh, Heath,..." Gobber began, but stopped himself.

"Calm down, James," Stoick tried to control the monster (N/5) that was my anger, failing miserably because I wasn't listening.

"Why do you think I think you're lying," Dad tested, probably hoping to make me break as per usual. "Is it because you are lying and you know it?"

"Heath," Gobber tried again. "You may want to stop right where you are before something bad happens."

"James, please," Stoick tried once more. "I've got enough of a mess to clean up today; I don't want one more because your father refused to back down. Be the bigger man and—."

"Yeah, Dad," I taunted, hoping to make him realize how stupid it was to argue with me. "Be the bigger man before someone gets hurt. Like Gobber, one of the best blacksmiths we have here in Berk. Or Stoick, the chieftain of Berk. Or someone else who doesn't deserve to get hurt because we both had a bad day. Or do you simply not care about others when you want your son to _break_? Do you just simply not care about others at all? Do you simply not care about your son—?"

"Stop talking right this instant, you Hellian," Dad yelled louder than any dragon could roar.

"That's all you think of your son," I demanded, matching his volume. "You just think of me as an incarnation of Satan? Is that what I am to you?"

Snotlout, Tuffnut, and Fishlegs risked the chances of getting seriously hurt and grabbed a hold of me, trying to get me away from my father, who was being taken by Stoick and Gobber. Astrid got in between us, trying to prevent a fight should we ever break free of our friends' grasps. Ruffnut grabbed two battle axes just in case we both broke free and caused too much of a fight for Astrid to handle on her own.

They were too late to prevent any damage from being done, as that stupid old Wither had already torn too great a gap between us to be healed and I had already decided that I wanted nothing to do with my father. They were barely just in time, however, to prevent a devastating fight from breaking out in the middle of the small little village.

As soon as all signs of hostility and violence had dissipated, Astrid came over to me while Ruffnut walked over to the Wither King. I was still quite hostile, but I had finally gotten my anger (and thus the glow in my eyes) under control. I was currently sitting down on a barrel of fish, with Snotlout on my left, Fishlegs behind me, and Tuffnut to my right. Astrid finally got over to me and got down on one knee.

"Alright, Hothead," she demanded. "Tell me exactly what happened. And no 'my father this', or 'my father that'. I just want answers. Start talking."

"Preferably at the beginning," Fishlegs added. Everyone gave him a look.

"Well," I said as I rolled my neck, letting the joints pop their stress out. "You do have a point, Fishlegs; it's probably a good idea to start at the beginning. But I would rather not explain how I got angry, as it has a lot to deal with Big Pops over there." I nodded my head in the Wither King's direction.

"I don't care what your father did," Snotlout stated, voicing everyone's opinions. "I just want to know how you got so angry."

"As I said before, it's not a really good idea to say what got me so angry at that moment. As it is, my anger's still fresh out of the fire pit, so it's not the wisest of ideas—."

"Oh, come on, James," Tuffnut practically screamed. "It's not like it'll kill us all."

I chuckled at the thought. "Don't tempt me to make that nightmare come true, Tuff."

"Uh, guys," Fishlegs began, but was cut off by:

"Not now, Fishlegs," Snotlout snapped. I began getting angry again, but it was coming on stronger this time. I wasn't certain I would be able to hold it off this time. Tuffnut moved in closer to my face so then he could hear what I said better. I gave him a glare that could kill even the bulkiest of dragons, willingly adding in a bit of glow to my eyes.

"Tuffnut," I growled. "Get out of my face before I force my anger out on you." He backed away, not wanting to lose half of his precious hair. "That's better."

Snotlout and Tuffnut continuously pestered me like that until the creepiest of creepy things happened.

"Hey, guys," a feminine voice called out from behind me. My eyes widened, then went slit-pupiled like an angry dragon and I growled. Almost exactly like a dragon "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing," Astrid responded. "It was just another father-son issue like this morning. Nothing too major, I'm hoping."

"Ah," the girl chuckled. "That makes sense. Mind if I help?"

"No, no," Snotlout answered. "It's alright, babe. We got this." I shot him a glare with ten times the glow, letting him know I didn't like the fact that he'd just done that.

"What did you just say, Snot-rag," I snarled, voicing a hidden rage with my tone.

"As I said," Astrid continued. "Nothing too overly major. I'm hoping."

"Well," repeated the voice. "Can you find some way for me to help?"

"Angela," Fishlegs warned. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

So _that_ was her name: Angela. I've known her for how many years now? And I still never learned her name. Well, there's the fact that she's an Ender, and I didn't learn that until recently, so it sort of makes sense.

"Oh, come on," Angela argued. "Do you guys not want me to help you because I'm a girl? Or is it because I'm an Ender and he's—."

"A Netherine," I finished. I knew why she couldn't help me: our parents were at war, and expected us to be worst enemies. I stood up with such a violent force that I smacked Fishlegs in the knees with the fish barrel I was sitting on, and began to leave. Astrid stepped in my way.

"And, where do you think you're going," she demanded, not even noticing the fear flowing like a waterfall in my eyes.

"Hiccup," I stated flatly. "He may need help." My eyes were as wide as a battle axe at this point. I was trying to hide the glow as much as I could, but couldn't hide it all.

"Hiccup," Tuffnut repeated, trying but failing to hide his laughter. "Really? That is the worst—." He never got the words out before I pushed my way through.

"Let me through, guys," I ordered. They of course tried to get in my way, but every time they tried to stop me, I would disappear in a puff of smoke and reappear behind them, continuously marching towards Crow's Peak.

After a bit of this, Angela pullet the craziest thing I'd ever known an Ender to do to any Netherine: she teleported right in front of me and tackled me. I still Wither-ported away, but she still clung to me like a hook on a fish. I began to teleport wildly, each teleport lasting only an eighth a second.

"GET OFF OF ME," I yelled, throwing her off of my back. My eyes were glowing so brightly that they were beginning to glow white (N/6). I felt an impossible darkness rising within me as I Wither-ported away. My destination: Crow's Peak. My goal: to find that dragon I'd shot down earlier this morning.

. .xXx.

200 yards south of Crow's Peak

I looked at where I was, checked my surroundings, and cursed myself out for losing the Netherine Jett. How do you lose a dragon that big in the first place?

"You hate me, don't you God (N/7)," I let slip. Had a Viking caught me saying that, I'd be charged with heresy without a second thought. Had my _father_ caught me saying that, it wouldn't be pretty. "Most people lose their dog or their favorite pillow. Oh, not me. You decided to hide a massive dragon with a high heat signature from my eyes." I smashed my fist into a tree on my right, causing the wood to splinter. Only then did I notice the massive scratch mark on the bark. A good lead, I must admit. I looked to the left and found a massive crater with a drag mark leading up to it.

"Never mind that rant, God," I trailed off. I followed the trail up to a broken boulder, then stopped to prepare myself. I pulled my dagger from my belt, and a small amount of rope from my gold-embroidered vest.

I took a deep breath, then leapt out from the boulder I'd used for cover. I shirked away from the dragon in fear, recognizing the mightiest of the Witherine Jett dragons. Lying before me, still alive and breathing but unconscious nonetheless, was the mightiest beast the Nether has ever seen aside from the massive Alpha species: the Night Shadow, one of the deadliest and fastest Jett dragons the Nether has ever seen. A thick arrow was buried in its right wing's jet pod, the one organ that made this dragon so much faster than all the other dragons; protruding from the arrow's feathered end was a rope net which surrounded the dragon's legs, just as it was designed to do. Fear racked my body as I inched closer to the dragon, my dagger shaking in front of me as I tried to keep it between me and the dragon. My breaths came in shallow and shaky. Just being near this dragon while it was unconscious made me extremely lucky; the fact that I'd shot it down made me luckier than the luckiest man alive.

"Oh, dear God," I whispered in both awe and fear. No one has ever seen this dragon, not even those who could've before they were killed by the beast; this made me feel like I was protected by a divine intervention. "What am I supposed to do with this?" I stalked over, feeling a little bit braver than when I found the dragon, and nudged its leg with my boot. It didn't move, so I kicked it a little harder. I screamed and backed away when it awoke and moved its leg. I was shivering so hard I could feel the ground beneath me start shaking. The dragon's eye opened slowly and trained itself on me. 'Oh, my God,' my mind was screaming. 'What did I just dig myself into?'

I calmed myself down, knowing that Hiccup had just found his Night Fury, the one dragon that could race a Jett dragon and have a chance of winning. I also knew that this dragon couldn't shoot me because these dragons don't shoot with their mouths. I inched closer to the dragon's chest, feeling as though I had won.

"I'm going to put you out of your misery," I stated as though proud, readjusting my blade so then I could give the finishing blow. "I'll cut your heart out, take it to Stoick and my father. I'm not just a Viking; I'm a Hunter, and you were my target."

The dragon gave a guttural groan, as if to say 'Then finish me off.'

I raised the blade above my head, feeling a heavy guilt rest on my shoulders. I knew I couldn't just kill the poor beast, but it attacked my homeland, and thus it deserved to die. But no matter how hard I tried to take my anger out on the beast, I just couldn't. It didn't settle well with my heart. I looked into its eyes, and I saw it was just as afraid as I was. I saw my own anger built up in the dragon's eyes. I saw my own loving potential in its relaxed nature. I looked in its eyes, and I saw myself. My heart, after twelve years of not beating, not caring, finally began to care, beat once more. Tears threatened to fall as I lowered the blade to my side, feeling remorse for shooting the dragon down. I felt a supreme pain in my heart, knowing that my father would not like what I was going to do.

I didn't notice this at the moment, but the dragon's eyes snapped open at the sound of me slicing through the rope on the arrow. It began to breathe heavier as I pulled the heavy arrow from its wing, and then it jumped out of its bonds, pinning me to the broken boulder I had used for cover before seeing what the dragon was.

Fear racked my body once more as the dragon held me to the rock with its powerful limbs. I saw its anger rise to the surface of its sea of emotions. It was growling a deep growl that would put my father's baritone voice to shame in both depth and volume. I began shaking uncontrollably, frightened beyond reason. It took a deep breath, and I prepared to learn that I was mistaken, that this dragon could shoot fire from its mouth as well.

The roar was intensely loud, louder than my father could roar in the Nether (N/8). I could barely hear anything else aside from the Night Fury Hiccup had shot down. My eyes shut from the sheer wind speed coming from this beast's set of lungs. The roar only lasted two seconds, but got the point across: leave the dragon alone. It got up and tried to fly away while only using its underside rockets, failing miserably. I was too afraid to notice. I got up, picked up my blade, and tried to walk away. Sadly, I passed out like Hiccup did, just a bit more dignified in the process. The only thing that was undignified about me falling over was when I hit the ground face first.

. .xXx.

(N/1)= James can hear more sounds from more angles, thanks to his being born as a Witherine (half-Wither half-human/to be like a Wither).

(N/2)= This is one of those strange abilities that James has that even Earth-born Witherines don't have, and he only uses this one in case of major emergencies in which he can't teleport but needs to get to the scene quickly.

(N/3)= Unbeknownst to both the Vikings and the Wither Lords present with the Vikings, James has a powerful ability to speak to dragons. Sadly, this ability will not last much longer into the story.

(N/4)= James has many attitude problems, most of which will turn against him later on in the story.

(N/5)= This is the fun part to write, as this 'monster' is the one thing about James that makes him seem like the classic Herobrine.

(N/6)= This is a surefire sign that James is getting extremely angry. This will come into play later in the story, but not much later. This is also a sign that his darker side is about to make a mess of things; this is also going to play a part in the story later on, but it won't play half as big a part as one might expect.

(N/7)= James refuses to believe in the polytheistic beliefs of the Vikings and their many gods, but didn't want to worship the Wither's belief in one all-powerful deity called Notch; this refusal to believe in those religions but a desire to believe in a being greater than he lead James to search Sapienus's library for the records of any monotheistic religion. Not long after, James found an ancient script about the young religion of Christianity, and he came to worship the three-in-one God of the newly-formed religion. This will play a gigantic part later on in the story.

(N/8)= Remember, in the Nether, sounds not only echo, but they are also much louder thanks to the thicker air and higher heat of the Netherine atmosphere. This means that this dragon's roar should've caused James's head to vibrate to pieces, but thanks to James's specialized abilities and resistances he was able to survive.

. .oOo.

That, by far, was my longest chapter yet. Only a few hundred more words and I would have doubled my biggest chapter size. This is a HUGE chapter, but at least I covered a lot more ground than last chapter. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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